Nostalgic third Epicenter fest hits hard at Verizon

This year's Epicenter took fans way back, and boy did it bring back memories -- for fans and performers.

“When I was younger I used to listen to Limp Bizkit. Now that I'm older, I say f*** Limp Bizkit,” the group's frontman Fred Durst (above) said Saturday night at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater. He meant it as a good thing: “When I say f*** Limp Bizkit, that means I love Limp Bizkit, man!”

The headliners for this third version of festival, which moved to Irvine after two years in the Inland Empire, kept fans “rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'” for more than an hour, with Durst making security earn their paychecks by continuously going into the crowd and causing an uproar. (It was amusing to see them surround the vocalist, yelling “back up” to crazed fans crowding him. Wonder if they secretly resented him not staying on stage.)

During one of those escapades, Durst -- wearing his recognizable red cap (for the Angels, accordingly), white shirt and blue Dickies -- was caught off guard by an unexpected offer from a female fan. “I came over trying to find a beer, but that didn't happen -- but I do have a joint,” he told the crowd before politely refusing and returning it (without taking a hit).

In its only show in Southern California this year, Limp Bizkit delivered what was to be expected and didn't disappoint. Durst indulged high-flying shenanigans and routinely reached out to fans, including a moment when he invited someone from the pit on stage to drink a beer with him (before both guys playfully sprayed each other). An obviously excited young man named Emilio recorded the moment -- and before he knew it had the tables turned on him, as Durst grabbed his camera and began filming him dancing, high-fiving the other members and enjoying his 15 seconds of fame.

But Durst provided plenty more opportunities to capture the moment, especially during his up-close visits with the crowd. Camera flashes lit up everywhere as the singer encouraged everyone to “put this on Facebook and tell your best friend(s) to go f*** themselves,” eliciting cheers.

Staind and Everlast, on the other hand, provided more of a laid-back rock vibe. The former's vocalist Aaron Lewis even acknowledged the slower pace: “Looking forward to Limp Bizkit waking you back up? Imma try my best to put you to sleep a little bit more.”

By no means did slower mean snoozer by Saturday's standards, however. There was no need to jump around to enjoy two men letting their raspy vocals do the work for them. Lewis in particular exhibited a cool no-BS vibe, though curiously there was no love for “It's Been Awhile.” (At least we got “Outside.”)

The bluesy old-school sounds of Everlast easily stood out as a favorite, his solo work a far cry from his days as part of '90s hip-hop group House of Pain (who incidentally performed at last year's Epicenter for the first time in more than a decade). But a WTF moment occurred when Everlast was trying to stay on a bit longer after his time had elapsed. After being ignored, things got interesting: “Spin that motherf***er all the way around,” he yelled, referring to the rotating stage as it began to turn him out of view.

“Go ahead, I don't give a f***!” he continued, stepping off the same sort of giant lazy Susan they use at KROQ's Weenie Roasts. The crowd loved it. Without hesitation, a familiar tune led by bagpipes was heard throughout the open air, as Everlast broke into “Jump Around” and bodies began to do so in a frenzy. (The only thing missing was his Celtics jersey.)

But he wasn't done yet: “I won't leave the stage 'til I f***ing feel like it! Sh**, f*** the schedule.” It was apparent that the crowd was happy he didn't go quietly.

Five Finger Death Punch delivered its heavy metal full-force, though lead vocalist Ivan Moody also used their time slot to clarify a few absurd online rumors, setting the record straight that he hadn't killed himself (obviously) and that the band wasn't broken up (ditto.) A third rumor, about him having some 14 kids, was neither confirmed nor denied: “That may be right,” he said jokingly.

The L.A. band did its genre proud, demanding nothing less than a high level of intensity during its set. And when Moody wasn't feeling that from the crowd, he didn't hold back: “This ain't no Air Supply concert, motherf***ers!” he said, while acknowledging that some people “out there don't want (us) anywhere near a stage. Ready to prove them wrong?” By their reaction, they most certainly were.

Moody also had an encounter with security, but unlike Durst's, it wasn't so friendly. The singer threatened to stop if guards didn't let go of a female fan who was being forcefully escorted out. His threat wasn't realized; she was allowed to stick around. “I know you guys are paid to do your job, but these kids pay a lot of f***ing money to come here,” Moody said to huge applause.

The group continued setting it off while Moody gave shout-outs to Limp Bizkit, Staind and Korn, all bands he said to be “honored and privileged” to be playing with that night. (Only problem: Korn wasn't in the lineup.)

The performances just kept coming, though. “Dude, every band has gotten better!” said a fairly intoxicated fan a row in front of me.

And he was right. California reigned with the likes of P.O.D., Buckcherry and Papa Roach. The first, a Christian group out of San Diego, hyped up the crowd with an early afternoon set on the side stage, filled with nods to the West Coast, while the latter two groups rocked the main stage later that evening.

Buckcherry's vocalist, Orange County native Josh Todd, exemplified a true rocker look and exploded with “Crazy Bitch.” Like Durst, Papa Roach's Jacoby Shaddix walked the aisles and rows at Verizon with a group of fans trailing closely behind. (I wonder how many tags the picture he took with the crowd has gotten on his Twitter account.) He also surprised by showing off his Spanish skills during a snippet of a song.

Skillet was a standout for its unique use of violins as well as a rarity among this lineup: two strong female members, with guitarist Korey Cooper stealing the show. Puddle of Mudd, meanwhile, provided a more grunge feel to the fest, delighting fans with their radio staples “Blurry” and “She Hates Me.”

Epicenter provided it all: overpriced food and beverages, people getting tossed out, plenty of weed (though I didn't get a whiff until late into the night), delayed set times, even out-of-place attendees, like the cute older Asian lady with camera in hand.

One reader, commenting on the festival's lineup announcement, knew exactly how this event would go down: it would be “like a reunion for us Gen X and Yers!” And that it was.

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